


Remembrance

by Snowpiercer



Category: Dunkirk (2017)
Genre: M/M, Nostalgia, Original Character(s), Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:08:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28833171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowpiercer/pseuds/Snowpiercer
Summary: My addition to the prompt! This is actually part of a future chapter of my main current fic Nightfall. It hasn't been published there yet but no fear- this contains no spoilers. If you don't recognise names of OC's, you don't need any context, they're just names for this fic.
Relationships: Collins & Farrier (Dunkirk), Collins/Farrier (Dunkirk)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4
Collections: Pre-war prompt





	Remembrance

**Author's Note:**

> Sitting and remembering how things used to be isn't always bad.

Another day on the airbase, more hours spent wondering if they would fly or not, wondering if they would be invaded or attacked. Waiting for the air raid siren or the scramble bell, whichever came first. It was no way to live and Farrier was sick of it along with everyone else on base including the dog.

At least it was a nice day to sit around waiting for action, the men were all outside. Though it was chilly, the sun was out and the air was dry, the cold was nothing a little game of football couldn’t shake off. Of course there were some who didn’t really like sports, such as Collins, Farrier, Swinton, Riley and a few others who sat on the chairs lining the back wall of the airbase, looking out onto the runway. It was days like this when they let the fact that there was a war on take a back seat if they could.

“Weird innit, how war doesn’t feel like war, it’s just a word. Oh, we’re in war now. Oh, we aren’t,” Swinton thought aloud.

“Yeah, I mean it is for us, who get to sleep in a bed every night and not a trench mind you,” Farrier reminded him of the fact that they were very, very lucky indeed. There were plenty of men who couldn’t almost forget about war, who didn’t get to fly home safe every night.

“Good point. We’re lucky,” Swinton said.

“We are, though I guess that’s rounded out by the fact that pilots have the highest death rate among the three military branches,” Collins said with half a smile.

“It isn’t as bad as it used to be,” Farrier said before going on a spiel about the planes, also known as death traps used in the first war.

“I wonder what the people back then did, before great war this and second world war that,” Riley said.

“Same as us I suppose. Sat around shuffling their feet until something happened. Wasn’t like they didn’t have wars,” Farrier said.

“You say ‘they’ as if you aren’t part of that crowd,” Collins chimed in, earning him half a scold on account of calling Farrier old.

“There _were_ wars on, just not of this scale. Growing up for lots of people I think is a time they look back on and smile, innit?” Farrier asked.

“Is for me, born between wars in the peace, I was,” Swinton said.

“I was a paperboy,” Riley said. 

“Me too!” Collins said excitedly. There weren’t many stories they could swap about being paperboys except for dogs chasing them on their bikes.

“What’d you do as a kid then Swinton?” Farrier asked.

“Not that much really, I didn’t have a job like that. I just stuffed around you know? Did kid stuff, and then joined the RAF.”

Farrier forgot that most of these lads were thrust into the role barely out of their teens, that they grew up so fast.

“What did you get up to then?” he asked Farrier back.

“Me? I looked after horses. We used to have a paddock behind our house and people in town would let us look after their horses, keep them there. Never rode one though.”

“You like horses?” Collins asked, this was new information to him.

“I love horses.”

“In your blood then? With a name like Farrier?” Riley asked.

“I guess so, my parents kept horses, my grandparents too. When I was older though I moved away and… Well I got interested in planes before any wars.”

“Lucky you, got a head start then!” Riley chirped, Farrier nodded and watched the other men chase the football around on the grass in front of them.

“Simpler times, men,” Canfield said. They all jumped, not realising he had been standing next to their chairs for a good while.

“How long were you there?” Swinton asked.

“Long enough to hear all your sob stories!”

“What did you used to do then?”

“When I was a lad.. Oh, you make me think back an age, the Roman Conquest of Britain was going on when I was growing up!” he said jokingly, causing a huff of a laugh from Farrier.

“I’m joking, obviously. I, well I suppose I did whatever a child would do, cause trouble, run to places I wasn’t supposed to, do the wrong thing in school all that.”

“Like you would act out in school!” Collins said, surprised Canfield would imply such a thing, the man was cheeky at times but he never struck the blonde as someone who wouldn’t act well in a classroom.

“Oh come now Collins! Who else would think of the genius idea to stick a classmate’s books inside his desk? Or to draw cartoons all over the windows? Or to coat the stair rails with honey?” Canfield asked in quite a serious tone. After a moment the three young men had to laugh, Farrier just smiled and sat back in his chair; he’d heard this all before.

Later in the day, Farrier and Collins found themselves alone together outside again. It had grown colder and while most of the men tended to go inside once the weather turned, Collins never really felt bothered by it. Perhaps it was the Scotsman in him. Farrier had wandered outside for a smoke when he’d spotted the blonde, and deciding it was inconspicuous enough he hadn’t darted back inside.

“Are there still horses there? Where you lived?” Collins asked, reaching his hand out as he leant against the brick wall. Farrier gave him a cigarette and his lighter, watched the man light it before taking the lighter back and answering.

“Doubt it. I don’t know who lives there anymore anyway, or if the paddock even exists.

“We should go and see one day.”

“I dunno. Not sure if I want to go back,” Farrier said, taking a drag on his own cigarette.

Collins didn’t really like cigarettes, not _that_ much. He only really smoked them because Farrier did, and Farrier was _cool._

“Well maybe you should come see where I used to run the papers, has nae changed a bit,” he said, taking note of the hint of defensiveness in Farrier’s voice upon talking about his childhood and upbringing. They’d talked about Farrier coming to Collins’ hometown several times now, but there was such sincerity in the blonde’s voice this time, it wasn’t a vagrant statement never to be solidified.

“I’d like that a lot.”

“Then we’re going to make it happen. And I will not wait for this war to be over before it does.”

And it would have done, if it weren’t for the fact that in order for them to have leave at the same time they’d need to be in the same section, and that once they were in the same section they’d be sent to Dunkirk.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you everyone for reading!! I hope you all enjoyed. Feel free to check out my ao3 account for more flyboys fics.
> 
> [ my tumblr ](https://s-n-o-w-p-i-e-r-c-e-r.tumblr.com)


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